Everyday Martin's not shuffeling
by Mondwoelfin
Summary: Filled the iPod Shuffle Challenge: 1. Pick a character, pairing, or fandom you like. 2. Turn on your music player and put it on random/shuffle. 3. Write a ficlet related to each song that plays. You only have the time frame of the song to finish the ficlet; you start when the song starts, and stop when it's over. I chose Martin from Cabin Pressure.
1. Besser du rennst

**Note:** These are my ficlets for the _"iPod Shuffle Challenge". _The original prompt read as follows:

_"1. Pick a character, pairing, or fandom you like._  
_2. Turn on your music player and put it on random/shuffle._  
_3. Write a ficlet related to each song that plays. You only have the time frame of the song to finish the ficlet; you start when the song starts, and stop when it's over. No lingering afterwards!_  
_4. Do ten of these, then post them."_

And so I did!

**Note²:** My ficlets were beta-ed by the wonderful **veraciouslymendacious** from Tumblr. Check out her blog at **veraciouslymendacious **dot tumblr dot com!

**Disclaimer: **_Cabin Pressure_ belongs to John Finnemore and is a Pozzitive production for the BBC.

* * *

_Because you have to dare everything now,  
__Shouldn't mourn_  
_The world, it keeps turning,_  
_Keeps turning without you_

**- Subway to Sally - Besser du rennst (You better run) -**

* * *

He had to leave, leave everything. It had already been a miserable day, and Martin should have taken it as a sign that somebody up there really hated him when it started raining. But right now, at the end of a day when everything that could have gone wrong did, the rain was a relief, a cleansing. His tangled thoughts got clearer, calmed down. He could see his breath misting in the cool drizzly autumn air, and he found his composure in it.

Martin walked until his feet started to hurt. He didn't have an end goal in view anymore. His breath and the rain would take him where he needed to be. It might take him so far that he wouldn't come back.

But deep down Martin knew there was no escape. He couldn't run from himself and his failures – especially not when he himself _was_ the failure. Martin knew that far too well.

The rain silently fell on the abandoned street as Martin disappeared into the descending darkness.


	2. Ohne Dich

_**Warning:** Minor Character Death_

* * *

___I don't know how it keeps going_,  
_where to it keeps going, why it keeps going_.  
_But alas,_  
_where I stand, where I go,_  
_you're simply you, and alas it keeps going,_  
_keeps always going without you._

**- Letzte Instanz - Ohne Dich (Without You) -**

* * *

She was gone. His only sister had died. Martin didn't know how to feel. Or maybe he just couldn't feel anything. There was just emptiness inside him. No pain, no grief. Just emptiness. Rationally, he knew that he was supposed to cry, to show some emotion. But he couldn't – he physically wasn't able to. Caitlin was dead and would never be alive again. How would crying change that? Succumbing to grief wouldn't bring her back. His thoughts were grey and so far away; his brain felt clouded. He wanted to express how much he missed her, how much she meant to him, but he didn't know how. He remained silent. His fingers helplessly twirled a loose thread inside his trouser pocket as he motionlessly watched the dark mahogany coffin descend into the ground. Everything felt so far away. The murmuring voices of the grieving people around him… it was like a wave of grey embracing him. He was without her.


	3. Nichts ist für immer

_**Note:** Quite angsty.  
_

* * *

_Nothing lasts forever and ever,_  
_not the fear and not the wounds_  
_are made forever and ever_

**- Subway to Sally - Nichts Ist Für Immer (Nothing Lasts Forever) -**

* * *

He'd heard it often enough: it would get better, his time would come, soon he'd be able to come out on top. Et cetera, et cetera. But then what? What would follow? The Unknown.  
He did hope, of course, that it would get better. But at the same time he felt so much fear. Fear of everything new, fear of having everything slip through his grasp. Because how could he keep it? He never learnt how to not fail. He dreamt about it, imagined it, but living it was a whole different matter.  
The emptiness inside him, the greyness surrounding him – all that was comfortable, routine. It felt like home. He knew how things stood. He wasn't sure if he wanted to let go of the familiar.


	4. Überleben

_**Warning:** Implied sexual child abuse. Potential triggers!_

* * *

_You try to convince yourself_  
_that it is time to forgive_  
_but something inside you wants to scream_  
_to free itself from dirt._

**- Janus - Überleben (Surviving) -**

* * *

He didn't want to go in. He hated this house, his childhood home. It brought back so many bad memories. He'd been so glad to escape this hell. His father's hand – on his cheek, around his neck… the images rose in his mind and tried to drown him no matter how hard he tried to block them out. Martin closed his eyes and tried desperately to breathe normally, but his brain went foggy and the noises around him seemed muffled and his head roared. He couldn't do it, not now!

Douglas' hand on his shoulder almost made him break down. "Is everything okay, Martin?" he asked.  
"Yes. Fine. Everything's fine." Martin tripped over the words, and he hurried to deflect. "Thanks for helping me with this stuff."

He went to the door. Boxes had to be moved or thrown away. The house had to be cleared after his mother's death. Martin had no idea how he would survive this. Everything threatened to crush him. He wanted to scream, to run to his van to get away, away, away. Everything in this neighborhood seemed to peaceful, as if nothing wrong had ever happened. But the lie tasted bad in the back of his throat. _Lie, lie, lie, lie._  
His heart was racing, his hands were sweating. His father's hand on his neck. On his belly. Trembling. Staggering. A rushing sound in his ear. A hand on his thigh. _No. No, don't!_  
Martin twitched involuntarily as he tried to convince himself that everything was okay. But it wasn't. And it wouldn't ever be. He doubled over and choked on his feelings.


	5. Die Zähne in der Hand

_**Note:** Dark!Martin_

* * *

_Hell already awaits me,_  
_I could never forgive you,_  
_with my last breath_  
_I want to spit my hatred towards you_

**- Samsas Traum - Die Zähne In Der Hand (Teeth In The Hand) -**

* * *

Hatred. Cold, blank hatred flooded Martin's veins as he watched the chubby man from behind the doorframe. How he sat there at the dinner table, as if nothing ever happened, as if the world was all right. Martin could almost laugh at the injustice. For years this man had put him down. Beat him. Insulted him. Martin was never good enough for him. And now his father sat there – with his coffee, his newspaper, his job, his wife, his perfect life – and it sickened him. He wanted to hurt him. To wound his pride, to break his dignity. It would be so simple to walk up to him and punch him until blood covered his knuckles. The thought made Martin shiver – in anticipation? Or horror? He didn't know. It was as if something else was inside of him, controlling him. His soul didn't seem to belong to him anymore, not since his father took hold of it.  
He wanted to hurt him. He'd stood in silence for long enough; no more. He had to fall, and if Martin had to go down with him it was a price he was willing to pay. Martin took a step into the room.


	6. Mein liebster Feind

_**Note:** Oh, Martin..._

* * *

_But every wound that remained with me_  
_Bears witness of bygone days_  
_And every stab and every cut_  
_Let my heart growing scarred._

**- In Extremo - Mein Liebster Feind (My Dearest Enemy) -**

* * *

Martin understood that he was his own worst enemy. His awkward, helpless personality. His clumsiness. His ability to say the wrong thing at all the wrong times.  
It was all because of his inability to know who he was. He didn't have any self-perception. It seemed that everything he had ever read, seen, or heard had rubbed off on him, but nothing was original. He was a mish-mash of unmatching things. He was a product of his environment, the copy of a copy. Every time he tried to form an opinion, he found nothing but emptiness inside him. He didn't know where he stood or who he was supposed to be. Or who he wanted to be. It sometimes seemed like he had no identity at all. And he hated it. Hated it so much. How he lived day to day as a puppet. He breathed. He worked. There was nothing else for him. He floated through his life and just existed. A ghost. His own worst enemy.


	7. Find you're gone

_**Note:** Martin/OMC_

* * *

_When I wake up I find you're gone,_  
_there should be grief but I feel none._  
_Trying to leave the night behind_  
_I__hardly get my thoughts in line_  
_but there is one thing I could say,_  
_it seems I'm glad I find you're gone_

**- Wolfsheim - Find You're Gone -**

* * *

The first thing he noticed when he woke up was that Alex was gone. The night had been okay; he hadn't expected anything more than sex. Martin trudged into the bathroom and turned the shower on. For a few moments he wondered if he should be disappointed that his lover – for lack of a better word – had left before dawn. But when he thought on it, he realized that he didn't particularly care. He was satisfied, and now he didn't have to deal with another person's feelings. God, he should be glad! He couldn't even cope with his own emotions, let alone anyone else's. The fact that Alex was gone was more a relief than anything else.  
He enjoyed the water on his skin as he wondered if he were fooling himself or not, if he conjured up excuses because he had been hurt and disappointed so often in his life. But he couldn't find a clue that supported that theory. There was no regret. No disillusionment. He was as happy with his situation as he could get.  
The water destroyed the evidence of the night, and when Martin finally got out of the shower he found himself in an unexpected good mood.


	8. Thoughtless

_**Note:** Dark!Martin_

* * *

_All my hate cannot be bound __  
I will not be drowned  
by your thoughtless scheming  
So you can try to tear me down  
Beat me to the ground  
I will see you screaming_

**- Korn - Thoughtless -**

* * *

He wouldn't let anyone wipe the floor with him. Especially not Simon. His brother had tried for so many years to bring Martin down and he couldn't take it anymore. He spent his whole life believing Simon's words. He couldn't do that anymore.  
He had nothing but a growing rage for his brother. He wanted to stomp on him. To give him the feeling of being as worthless as he'd forced Martin to believe himself to be.  
It would be easy. His brother had provided him with so many targets: his divorce, his unhealthy relationship with alcohol. It would be so easy to break him.  
But Martin knew that he never wanted to be like Simon was.


	9. Miststück

_**Note:** Don't get me wrong! I really love Douglas._

* * *

_Whoever told you_  
_that the world is turning,_  
_did he also tell you_  
_that you're its center?_

**- Saltatio Mortis - Miststück (Bitch) -**

* * *

Douglas was not the center of the universe, and someone had to tell him that. Martin rarely felt so much rage as he did whenever he found himself yelling at Douglas. He couldn't pinpoint the origin of all those intense emotions. He'd just had enough. The smuggling and the endless arrogance that came with it. He put up a big front but the man wasn't real.  
And today, on this flight, Martin had enough. He didn't want to hear stories about perfect Douglas anymore. He just couldn't. It wasn't enough for his First Officer to share his oh-so-genius flashes of wit; he had to use it to bring Martin down. He knew it all already: not good enough, not pretty enough, fast enough, smart enough. He didn't need to hear it from a person he had considered a friend.


	10. Krähenkönig

**_Note:_ **_Martin being... Martin._

* * *

_Day and night I crow myself hoarse,_  
_wind blows away every word._  
_Day and night I crow myself hoarse,_  
_cursing this place._

**- Subway to Sally - Krähenkönig (The Crows' King) -**

* * *

To be up in the air was everything to him, because it was only there that he was able to leave everything behind. His attic with the mold on the walls and the broken tap, his van that didn't start anymore, all of his failed existence. All his problems, they were so earthbound. And he was free when he flew. Wind and air carried him to the most distant places, places he wished he could stay forever.  
When the lonely nights overwhelmed him he dreamt of floating away. He wished he had Icarus' wings and could glide away. Douglas had called Icarus the first bad pilot in history, but at least he'd had dreams and visions of being free and leaving everything behind, just like Martin. The wish for freedom was neither audacious nor naive; it was human. Martin was human.


End file.
